I creak my existence open with the flat smack of my palm, I bleed profusely from my pores, time pours out in the cupped portion of my hand, navel, and chest, and I move into the world, like a subway through tunnels, groping in the dark.
Grandiloquent. For ever panting and for ever young.
Email:
archrisman@gmail.com
J’aime votre art. C’est votre existence et la fin du mien.
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